Chapter Twelve: Aunt-Man and The Wisp
An atrocity had been committed. It was an act so vile...so reckless, that Peter doubted that he would ever forgive himself. He had eaten that glorious bag of cooked pasta given to him by Annabelle Lee. It was a crime, honestly. Each piece of fettuccine should have been strung across the wall as a momentum...but instead he had scoffed it all down for dinner; not caring that it had grown cold during the long wait or that it was utterly sauceless. Hunger will do that to a man. One minute he's admiring the most valuable gift ever given to him, and the next he's chewing on it to see if it's edible.
Apparently, it was more than edible...but didn't last long. The next day Peter was back to being hungry again, with no food in his fridge and an aching stomach. His long trudge to the homeless shelter certainly didn't help matters either.
Peter shuffled inside the familiar building, trying his best to ignore the rumble of hunger consuming him. The room was relatively large, with chairs and tables lined up for the daily visitors. The scent of cheap soup filled the air and Peter groaned. The irony of a starving man serving starving people wasn't lost on him.
"Peter!" The somewhat weakened voice of his aunt called from across the threshold. She wobbled towards him, smiling brightly and pulling him into a tight embrace. It had been at least a few weeks since he'd last seen her; college, work, and the Spider-Man gig kept him busier than he cared to admit. He felt incredibly guilty about not visiting her more often, but May always insisted that she was fine...whether that was a lie or not Peter couldn't tell. "It's so good to see you!"
"You too, Aunt May." Peter replied with a twinge of regret. He needed to get back into a weekly visiting schedule, despite how little time he had. "Look, I promise I'm gonna get my act together and come see you more often."
"Oh don't be silly. As much as I would like to chain you to my coffee table, it is very clear to me that you are a young man with a job and a college career. I'm so very proud of you, Peter. I wouldn't want you to waste time worrying about little old me." She said, gripping Peter by the shoulders. Knowing full well that Peter was about to argue with her, she quickly moved on. "Anyway, that little Kevin from across the street's shown me how to use my cell phone. The wretched thing's been a paperweight for four years now, but I can finally call you whenever I like."
"Cell phone? What happened to the landline?"
"Well...it was another thing I couldn't afford to have. Not that I needed it in the first place; Mary Jane's Aunt Anna is the only person I talk to these days and she's just around the corner."
As his Aunt pulled away, Peter's gaze lowered. May had been struggling financially ever since Uncle Ben's death. It pained him to see her barely sustaining herself in this last stage of life...she deserved to be comfortable, but she was constantly in debt and never able to dig her way out of it.
Now, at this stage you might be saying 'Hey, that's really sad. Where are the jokes?'. There are none when it comes to his Aunt May. She is a completely no joke zone.
"What happened to you and Mary Jane anyway?" May asked with concern glimmering in her eyes. No matter how many years past, those eyes never changed; as if all of her youth had not disappeared, but simply been captured in the watercoloured irises. "Anna and I were certain that we'd be attending a wedding soon."
"We were just going down different paths..." Peter sighed at the thought. He had adored MJ, but it was never going to work between them. The constant danger drew them apart, despite Mary-Jane's strong facade, and they were ultimately just too different. He would always care for her, of course, but they could never allow it to reach beyond the borders of friendship again. "And you don't need to pretend like Anna was upset. I know she was happy to hear that we broke up."
Aunt May's kind gaze grew conflicted, and yet she still tried to spare Peter's feelings. "Don't be ridiculous, she was very upset about it."
Peter's aunt rarely lied, and whenever she did it was like watching a five year-old trying to get away with eating all of the cookies or something. It was definitely cute, how adamantly she tried to defend Peter's self-esteem, but it never truly succeeded. "Don't even try it. That woman never liked me... Besides, MJ already told me how overjoyed her aunt was."
May pursed her lips, clearly uncertain about how to respond. It was true, Anna had a deeply embedded dislike for Peter. She thought that he was irresponsible (probably due to the fact that he was never on time for anything) and unworthy of her niece...it had been a great point of conflict within her friendship with May. Still, they had somehow managed to remain close. "I wouldn't quite use the word 'overjoyed'..."
"Forget it, Aunt May. It doesn't matter anymore." Peter said with relative indifference. One of the only positive things about his break up with MJ was that he no longer had to deal with her Aunt Anna. Seriously, he could almost cry tears of joy at the thought. "When do we start serving the food?"
"In a few minutes." May smiled. "Thank you for coming. You'll be in the kitchen with me, but there's a little donation booth right next to us if you want to help out a little more. If you see someone come in with something to donate, just duck over there to take it off their hands."
Peter nodded and followed his aunt to the kitchen...though he had really wanted to ask if college students counted as homeless, and if they did, if he could snag a bowl of soup - the science major had to practically wrestle this question away from his mouth as they prepared to serve.
The line was long. It swivelled around the room and tumbled out the door. With every person that approached him, Peter managed to maintain some semblance of dignity. He'd smile, take the bowl from their hands, pour the soup, then hand the steaming bowl of deliciousness back with a cheery 'enjoy'...but on the inside he was dying. His eyes were watering as the smell of food hit his senses, and his stomach was practically growing arms just so that it could claw its way out of his body and towards the soup.
Okay, that may have been a bit of an exaggeration, but the main point was that Peter was hungry. Really, really hungry. In fact, he may have even snuck a bite if he didn't get distracted by a laundry pile with legs. Yes, you read that right. Coming through the door at that very moment was a towering stack of clothing, but it moved with the limbs of a human being...or maybe someone was carrying the clothes but, let's be honest, that's exponentially less interesting.
So, with that in mind, the sentient mound of fabric wobbled towards the donation booth. Peter shuffled away from the kitchen and propped himself behind the booth with an almost eerie smile. "Here to donate?"
From behind this monstrosity of brightly coloured material a girl appeared. Well, half of her face did at least. She had somehow managed to glance around the heavy pile to greet the man at the booth. Their eyes met, and she smiled. "Hi, Peter!"
Peter blushed like a leaf in the middle of Autumn. The last person that he had expected to see today was Annabelle Lee...and now he was a nervous wreck. Suddenly, all the composure that he had maintained during the day had disappeared.
"I had a lot of extra clothes in my closet." Belle spoke and the world shattered around him like a snowglobe. "I thought that maybe someone else could enjoy them as much as I did."
She was looking right at him. Those misty spheres of sapphire and kyanite had locked him in place, completely speechless. His mind was muttering curses to itself over and over and over again. He hadn't brushed his hair...why hadn't he brushed his hair today? It probably looked like a rats nest, or a bundle of dry hay, or even a messy ball of cotton. One of them...any of them...all of them. It didn't matter, he looked dishevelled regardless.
"What are you doing here anyway, Peter?" Annabelle asked, shifting her arms beneath the stack of clothing to ensure that she didn't drop it.
Immediately noticing this, Peter basically yanked the massive pile out of her arms. It wasn't heavy, at least to him, but it was definitely impressive that Belle had been able to carry it for so long. "I'm...uh...just helping out my aunt."
"Really? That's nice of you." Belle hummed, and Peter had to put down the pile of clothing before his trembling hands dropped the whole lot of it.
The clothing was exactly what you would expect from someone like Annabelle; colours so bright that they blinded you on sight, and all with weird designs that either looked too old or too young for someone in college. He supposed that most people living on the streets wouldn't much care about what the clothes actually looked like, but it was still notable all the same. There were even some leggings that were glittery, like a child's art project, and shoes that had butterfly wings moulded into the sides.
"Th-Thanks for bringing these in." Peter forced the words out of his dry throat, but they were croaky and trembly when they finally reached the air. "I'm sure they'll help a lot of people."
An important note to make here is that Aunt May could always tell when Peter was struggling; especially when that involved a girl. Granted, it was much worse when he was younger. He'd even thrown up once after trying to talk to his first girlfriend, Gwen Stacy. This time, however, he was simply shifting around on the spot nervously, and May couldn't help but saunter towards the scene.
"Who's your friend, Peter?" She asked, and as far as Peter was concerned she was his hero. If she hadn't shown up he definitely would have found a way to embarrass himself...not that he hadn't done that already. May glanced at Belle's floral, completely ancient shirt and grinned. Clearly, she had the same fashion sense...maybe Johnny was right when he said Belle dressed like an old woman...
"This is...well, she's...um..." Peter muttered. Annabelle was staring directly at him and that was completely ruining his concentration.
"I'm Annabelle." The girl answered, evidently noticing Peter's incompetence. "We're in the same literature class."
May's expression morphed into one of surprise. "Literature? Peter always hated English in high school."
"It was the only unit that fit in with my timetable..." Peter sighed. He truly regretted taking Education Studies as a minor. It was the reason he was stuck in a class about confusing plays and corny poetry. Though he supposed it wasn't all bad, after all, it was the reason that he had met Annabelle.
"You really don't like English? I thought you said you were enjoying the unit material..."
Peter's complexion turned ashen. Let this be a lesson, kids, never lie to your crush. You just end up looking like a major douchebag when they finally figure it out.
This awkward moment seemed to stretch into infinity. Peter's mind was running through possible excuses, but that was cut short when a loud crashing sound screeched through the room. A window had been smashed into pieces by a bright ball of light. It shivered through the air...and trashed everything within its path. Screams of fright and bewilderment echoed from the panicking civilians as they hid beneath tables and behind furniture.
Peter huffed in irritation. He knew exactly what this was...and he was once again bitter about the fact that he couldn't get through one day without something ruining it. The light brightened, blindingly so, and anyone that was caught staring at it was consumed by darkness.
"I...I can't see!" May yelled in horror, hands reaching out to search for her nephew. "Peter, where are you?"
As Annabelle turned at the sound, she found that Peter was gone. Like, he had literally just vanished into thin air...or he had run away. Belle scoffed in disbelief. Peter Parker had ditched his own aunt in fear, and that knowledge filled her with dislike. Up until this moment she had been relatively fond of Peter; he seemed like a decent enough guy, and she didn't mind the prospect of being friends...but now she would never look at him the same way.
"May, is it?" She whispered, reaching her hands out and securing them on the old woman's shoulders. "He's fine. He's gone to get help."
Just as this lie left her lips something swung into view. A vision of red and blue tights, standing defensively in front of her and May... Spider-Man.
"I knew you'd show up if I trashed enough places, Spider Loser." The ball of light spoke. "And this time you will not triumph against, Will o' the Wisp!"
At this very moment many of you will be realising that the title of this horrible chapter was, in fact, not a typo. Others will be wondering why the narrator is introducing yet another obscure character instead of injecting the forced romance. Well, he's only here for one reason; to make sense of the cringingly unfunny title. Unfortunately for our friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man, that also means demolishing any hope of having a normal day...and making him look like a coward in front of the girl he likes - but hey, it was worth it.
"Why do all you criminals feel the need to declare yourselves whenever you appear?" Spidey quipped, crossing his arms and shaking his head. "And why is it always in bold like some comic book strip?"
"Enough talk. I was locked away for a long time because of you, I'm here to return the favour." The bundle of light increased to unbelievable levels...but Spider-Man continued to look directly at him. "What the hell? You should not be able to gaze upon me for so long without burning your retinas..."
Spidey smirked underneath his mask. "I got new lenses. You think I would just wait for you to break out and temporarily blind me again? I'm offended that you think I'm that stupid."
The Wisp grumbled in fury, and in the span of two seconds, he had transformed from an ethereal ball of light to a solidly-built man that looked as if he'd pounced right out of the 70s. He had long, flowing blonde locks and a green suit that left nothing to the imagination. "It doesn't matter. Defeating you will be much too easy."
"Yeah that's what you said last time, Wispy." Spider-Man retorted with a dull tone. He really was getting tired of all these one-off villains showing up. Emphasis on 'on-off' because most of them probably won't show up again, let's be honest.
A fight was about to ensue, that much was clear. It could have been a battle for the ages, one to be passed down with the likes of Ultron...but more likely, it was just going to be a filler fight; created to compensate for the fact that his name was used in the title. Strap in for a completely mediocre clash of two decently powered beings...in the next chapter.